


Forgotten

by grumpyhedgehogs



Series: Failures and Saviors [3]
Category: Far Cry 5, Far Cry: New Dawn
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Broken Families, Family Feels, Female Friendship, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love, Male-Female Friendship, Post-Canon, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-18 01:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21519892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpyhedgehogs/pseuds/grumpyhedgehogs
Summary: Grace Armstrong sees an old friend.
Relationships: Grace Armstrong & Deputy | Judge
Series: Failures and Saviors [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1440241
Kudos: 59





	Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Just when you thought I stopped being salty about Far cry: New Dawn.

Grace’s eyes aren’t what they used to be. That fact still stings years after the burns healed. The best sharpshooter Montana has ever seen, and here she is, milky pupils and scars across her cheek bones. She can make out shadows, figures, sometimes even colors if it’s bright out- but she’ll never again be able to be what she once was.

Grace blames the fact she doesn’t realize she isn’t alone in the workshop until the Judge moved on her blindness. The shaking in her hands was a little harder to excuse.

It starts as a flicker at the edge of her vision, a movement in the corner of her eye; then, when she whirls, a shadow detaches itself from the dark corner behind her workbench and resolves itself into-

Oh God.

They’ve taken off their mask.

They’ve taken off their mask.

They’ve taken off their mask and Grace might not be the marksman she once was but by God she can remember the face of the person she’d have followed into hell if given half the chance all those years ago.

Grace meets eyes she’d thought long since dead and swallows bile as it rises in her throat. 

The Judge tilts their head, maybe blinks at her, Grace isn’t sure. They don’t move. Grace feels as if cement blocks are suddenly tied to her boots.

“We’ve lost everything,” the Judge- that’s not their name, that’s not their name- finally speaks. Their voice is rusty. They sound tired. 

“Yeah,” Grace agrees, more than a little hoarse herself. “We have.”

A shift in the shadows; she thinks they might be nodding.

“It’s been so long,” they whisper. “I keep forgetting...forgetting how much I’ve lost. I can’t remember…”

Grace’s tongue feels thick in her mouth. Her eyes are watering; it’s too dusty in here. 

But they don’t need her prompting. They turn their mask over and over in their hands now. They aren’t looking at her anymore and Grace doesn’t know whether she feels relieved or desperate to see those eyes again.

“I thought if I saw you- you were always there- but I can’t _ think- _ ”

Grace almost can’t stand to hear this, not now, not after everything; but they can’t seem to stop and someone has to listen.

“I can’t think, I can’t. It’s all just  _ him _ ,” they tell her and now they look up and even with her poor sight Grace can see how overbright their eyes are. “ _ He’s in my head, Grace _ .”

“I- I’m sorry.”

A shift- they always used to shuffle their feet when they were upset or worried or anxious. Grace throws up her hands to show she meant no harm, but the Judge- _ that’s not their goddamn name _ \- stumbles back at the unexpected movement. Their mask falls through their fingers and clatters, too loud against the smoothed concrete floor of the workshop. They jump again and Grace starts too, she’s not sure why, maybe to offer help calming down-

But it’s the wrong thing to do, because the Judge-  _ call them by their fucking name! _ \- is suddenly across the room. The door is open. The birds are singing outside and the sun filters in. It hits her retinas and stings and the Judge _ \- they’ve had everything taken from them and you can’t even give them their fucking name back, Armstrong? _ \- is silhouetted against the bright blue sky.

They’ve taken off their mask and she can’t see their face. 

_ “I’m sorry!”  _ Grace cries out. It nearly forces its way out of her, the apology a living thing, squirming out from between her clenched teeth. “I-I didn’t help you. I’m so sorry.”

There’s a beat; it’s long, long enough that Grace almost wonders if all of this is really happening, if they’re really having this conversation or if she’ll wake up in her bed in John Seed’s old house soon, or maybe even- God, please- wake up in the bed roll she used to use when the two of them went hunting for Peggies.

“You couldn’t have done anything.”

“Yes, I could have.” They have to know that. They _ have _ to know that.

Another beat. Grace feels like her heart is slowly tearing itself to shreds inside her chest.

“Maybe you could have,” they conceded quietly. Grace’s throat closes, her heart stops, her eyes prick and blur. “But you didn’t.” 

The Deputy turns and disappears into the soft sunlight.


End file.
